Brother, My Brother
by familyisimportant
Summary: Did anyone else notice the way Atos acts like a dad to D'Artagnan and Porthos? Just an little AU following the 2011 story. But Porthos's appearance is based on a earlier version.
1. Chapter 1

Athos looked at the two children. His wife was holding one, while the twenty year old held the other. "Their wonderful." he murmured, making his wife laugh as he smiled at his two little sons. At his father and mother's voices, the second child opened is eyes, and looked at his father. There was a fire in those soft blue eyes that matched his father's. The boy's one year old brother slept soundly in his mom's arms.

He held the boy at arm's length, and smiled. "D'Artagnan, one of these days, you and your brother will make fine musketeers." he said slightly tossing the boy into the air and catching him. The boy gave a small babyish giggle. Suddenly, there was a pounding at the door. Still holding his son, Athos stalked to the window, and looked out.

He cursed under his breath. "Cardinal's guards. Ariana, take Porthos and run, they must not get us." She looked at her husband and youngest son.

"But,"

"Don't worry about us. I am taking D'Artagnan to a safe place. He will be well-trained and cared for there." All this he said as he wrapped his infant son in a blanket and put on his coat. The two separated, each holding, or in Ariana's case, half leading, half dragging, a sleepy child. It did not take Athos long to reach the Gascon farmhouse.

After two minutes of knocking, he heard a familiar voice cry out, "Alright, I am coming!" Within minutes, a sleepy and ticked off Don Williams stood in the doorway.

He gave a start. "Athos, what are you doing here this time of day?" he asked his old friend.

Athos held the child a little higher, as his arms was getting tiered. "We need help, Don." The older man looked down at the small baby, understanding in his eyes. He looked around, and dragged father and son inside. As Athos explained, Don's wife focused on making his friend's son comfortable.

"What's his name?"

"D'Artagnan."

"Don't worry, my friend. We will take good care of him. I will make sure he knows of you. No, do not look at me like that. All boys have a right to know of their father."

"Thank you, my friend." Athos returned, but he never found Ariana or Porthos. It will be years before proud father and sons will be reunited.

* * *

**19 years later**

Two figures fought together in the field. One was an old man with white-blonde hair. The other was 19, with dark brown hair, almost black. Soon, the fight ended. "You are ready, my son." Don told D'Artagnan, smiling with pride. To himself, he thought, _I only hope Athos agrees. _It had been nineteen years since his friend had come with his little, little boy. He handed him the sword Athos had left to be given on his nineteenth birthday.

_Athos should be doing this._ Don thought as D'Artagnan whispered "The sword of a musketeer." Three hours after leaving, D'Artagnan ran into Rushmore. He did not know this will be the beginning of something great. When he saw the same man through the Musketeer captain's window, he cried out an insult and took chase. The frist man he ran into was about forty with black hair and the same blue eyes as him. He did not know it, but the man who challenged him was his father, Athos.


	2. Chapter 2

D'Artagnan continued to chase Rushmore. He had to stop as he saw another man. With yells of 'pardon me!' he got past and tried to track him down again. Next thing he knew, he bumped into a twenty year old man with black hair, a headband around his head, and hazel eyes that had a deep, almost dangerous fire in them. A woman's purse fell out of his pocket. D'Artagnan bent down and apologetically picked up the purse and handed to him. "Pardon me, but I was in a hurry." Porthos glared at the boy.

He could not understand why he felt like he should know this scrap of a boy. "That is not mine."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, I saw you drop it." He snapped, annoyed his quarry was getting away. He headed off, but his long-lost brother grabbed the collar of his shirt.

"Center square, one o clock. Don't be late." He growled, pushing D'Artagnan away from him. He put up one finger for one. Then his eyes widened and he continued his search. He could not find the man anywhere. More than slightly annoyed, he walked back to his horse only to see a piece of paper being stuck to his mount.

He took the paper off, and chased after the man. "Hey,what is this." The answer was something he did not understand. "In French."

Ariams sighed and said slowly as if talking to a dull child. "Your horse, took a dump, in the street."

D'Artagnan looked at him in disgust. "You got to be kidding me."

"That's what they all say." Angry and a little rebellious. D'Artagnan ripped the ticket up in his face. Now, he had three different appointments with three different musketeers.

When he reached center square, Athos was waiting, sharpening his sward. "Am I late?" D'Artagnan asked, smiling slightly.

"No, I'm early." Athos answered, trying and failing to keep the small smile from appearing on his face. The boy reminded him of his wife.

"Well, let's get this over."

"In a hurry to die?"

"No, I have two other appointments I do not want to miss."

"Ah, here comes my seconds now." As soon as Porthos and Ariams arrived, two moths fell open.

"Father, You are fighting this rascal?!"

"My appointments. One 'o clock, two O clock."

"How long have you been in Paris, lad?"

"Since eight this morning."

"Let's kill him already. It's time for lunch."

"Wait your turn, old man."

Porthos snapped back something crude. Athos had to bite his tongue to keep from scolding his son. This boy was the same age his youngest son would be. He shook his head. "Let's get this over. We do not want to make you late for your other engagements."

They started to fight, Porthos and Ariams watched. Then the guards came. "New plan; kill the boy, kick their butts, and then get lunch." Porthos snarled.

Athos shook his head, and pulled his two men aside. He did not see his youngest son try to join the meeting, and Porthos shove him away. "There are three of us and six of them, hardly seems fair."

"Wrong, you miscounted. There are four."

"You are not one of us."

"I have the heart of a musketeer." Athos couldn't help but smile at the boy's courage.

"What's your name, boy?"

"D'Artagnan." His mouth fell slightly ajar, then he quickly closed it.

"Well then, Athos, Porthos, Ariams, and D'Artagnan." as he said D'Artagnan, his voice warmed. "ATTACK!" Together they turned, drawing their weapons. Soon, they were surrounded by the cardinal's guards. They were everywhere.

All four fought bravely. D'Artagnan was a skilled fighter, Athos noticed. He laughed as he fought. Then, Athos was sure this D'Artagnan was his second son. He got distracted. This man was better than him. He needed help. "D'Artagnan!"


	3. Chapter 3

D'Artagnan's head snapped over, and saw the trouble Athos had. "No!" He cried out, unknowingly rushing to his father's aid. In an instant, the man was taken care of. D'Artagnan grinned at his father then cried out "No, leave him for me!" and ran to rejoin the fry. 'That boy is too eger'. Athos thought to himself.

After the fight, Porthos turned to his younger brother. "You are arrogant, cokey, stubborn, bull-headed, and are likely to be killed by sundown, but I like you, lad. You remind me of me." For some reason, the unexpected phase filled D'Artagan with warmth. He grinned up at Porthos, who returned the smile with one of his own.

"Don't encourage him."

"Ariams is right, the cardinal's guards are likely to go after him too. Son, I need to talk to you alone." The two men rode a distance away from where D'Artagan was argueing with Ariams.

"What is it father?"

"You know what I told you of your little brother?"

"Yes, he was a year younger than me. You took him to a safe place, and his name was-" Porthos stopped, and stared at the boy who just helped them win a fight against about 300 guards. "D'Artagnan." He whispered. Athos nodded, and the men rode over to the other two. As soon as Porthos saw the hope in the boy- no, his brother's, eyes, he felt himself melt a little. "He's right." Porthos said, trying to not see those eyes turn sad.

"What changed?"

"I don't know. Maybe the fact we're brothers." Porthos snapped at him. D'Artagon gave a start, then turned and fled.

Porthos started to go after him but Athos stopped him. Let me, son." He rode after his youngest boy.


End file.
